


Collaborative Memory Making

by Profundity (TanTales)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Jedi Younglings (Star Wars), Jedi as Found Family (Star Wars), the good of the jedi order
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29314689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanTales/pseuds/Profundity
Summary: There is a set of gloves in the temple that every crèchemaster has heard of, but few have actually seen. But, when you have a crying youngling in your arms, too scared to play for fear of touching something and falling into a well of memories, you remember that those gloves exist.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	Collaborative Memory Making

Cal got his first set of gloves from a gangly twi’lek initiate, who had gotten them from a now-padawan a few years back.

“And Hi-Lia got them from Padawan Ji-Kian, who got them from Knight Vos!” 

Cal nodded, enamored with the glamour of the story. He had obviously heard of Knight Vos and his fantastic adventures. Every psychometric had heard of him; he was the roguish detective they all dreamed of becoming. 

Cal had extended his hand, ready to receive such a wonderful gift, before retracting it faster than an eel catching its prey. 

“They are old!” Initiate Ken nodded, his arm still extended.

“Yep, at least five generations of initiates.”

“I—I would love to have them, but—”

“That’s kind of the idea, actually. You are scared, right? It is a bit too much, and it doesn’t stop. So, you find ways around it. You only use new things and are careful with what you touch.” 

“Yes,” said Cal, his voice defeated. It had been weeks since he had felt comfortable touching things.

“Here is a secret; clothing does not count.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You are wearing clothes right now, right?”

Cal sent a quick glance down. He knew it was a rhetorical question, but he had been getting so little sleep that he wouldn’t be surprised if he had forgotten to get dressed.

“…Yes?”

“But you cannot feel them. Your clothes are yours and on you, and as such a part of yourself. There are theories and books about that, but the short version is that you cannot feel your own clothes.”

Cal nodded, still unsure of where this was going.

“So, wearing gloves is completely useless.”

“Why?”

“They are your gloves, right? They are clothing and on you, and as such, a part of you. Thus, touching something with a glove is the same thing as touching something with your hand. Do you follow me so far?”

“Yes,” Cal looked down at the gloves Initiate Ken was offering, “so there is no way to escape it? Not even with the gloves?”

“Not so fast! These,” he said, shaking the gloves in front of Cal’s face, “are not your gloves; they are mine! I am giving you _my_ gloves. So…”

“…they are not a part of me, because they are yours?”

“Exactly!” Initiate Ken smiled widely, and Cal followed suit. “You will have to get used to their memories. And, as you said, a few people have used them before, so they have quite a few. But this way, you can touch other things.”

“Thanks!” Cal jumped at the initiate and hugged the air out of him. One of his lekku got embraced a bit too hard, sending Initiate Ken to the floor rolling with pain.

“I am so sorry!” 

“It’s—” winced Initiate Ken, “—fine.”

“I am so, so sorry! And after you gave me a gift.”

Initiate Ken took a few deep breaths, his hands still slowly massaging his squished lek, and stood back up.

“No worries, youngling. It’s like hitting your pinky toe; it hurts a lot for a moment, but then it’s gone.” 

“I am still sorry.”

“Then,” said Initiate Ken, ruffling Cal’s mop of hair, “you are forgiven. It is the Jedi way, after all.”

“Thanks.”

Initiate Ken smiled and started to leave the Hawkbat Clan’s homeroom when he was stopped by a set of small, gloved hands.

“I do need to leave at some point, Cal.”

“I know, I know. But what about you?”

“What about me? When am I leaving? I was doing so.”

“No, your gloves! You gave me yours, so now your hands are—” Cal struggled to find a word, and at Ken’s raised lek, he settled on “naked.”

“Oh that,” Initiate Ken said, looking at his very much naked hand. He then looked at Cal and turned a shade greener. “It’s nothing, just that—” and then mumbled some intelligible mess.

Cal approached Initiate Ken and cupped his hand around his ear, a clear invitation for sharing the secret. Initiate Ken scanned the room quickly. A few Hawkbat members were sitting around their homeroom. Still, their attention was either on datapads, meditation, or on their own slumbery dreams. Master Nalrah rolled her eyes at the boys but made sure to pick up a datapad and advert her eyes.

Initiate Ken then lowered himself and whispered in Cal’s ear. “Do you know Initiate Jewa? She is in some of my classes and has just given me her gloves. She has been wearing them for a year. We were supposed to wait for a bit longer, but you needed these now.”

Cal did not understand why that was supposed to be a secret. A friend was being a fantastic friend! That was not a secret! But then he looked at how flushed Initiate Ken’s face looked. Any greener, and he could camouflage as moss. So, he assumed it was one of those “you’ll understand when you are older,” things and let it go.

“Then also thank Initiate Jewa for me.” 

“I will. And remember to find someone who can wear gloves for you. Someday a different youngling will need them, and it will be your duty to help them. But also, your hands will grow.” Initiate Ken then put his hand up, and Cal put his hand against Ken’s. Ken’s was bigger; the glove was probably too small for him now.

“I promise. But how do you know when someone else will need them?”

“Oh, trust me, you’ll know.”

And with that cryptic message, Initiate Ken was finally able to leave.

Of course, he was right; Cal knew the exact moment that he needed to pass his gloves to a new generation of psychometrics. A desperate crèchemaster came looking for him. One of his young wards had trouble living with so many memories around her, and Cal had a new set ready to go.

So, he sat down with a tiny bothan youngling and gave her her first set of gloves. He told her about now-padawan Ken and the others that had come before them. But he didn’t go into the details of the memories, for she would soon have to live with them. Good and bad memories that he had seen so many times that they might as well be his. Memories of meditating, of learning about their gift. Of long nights trying to find peace from so many voices. Of the joys of learning control, of being able to touch everything again, playing with others without worry of being pulled by some stray memory. 

Generations of psychometric younglings, united by one set of gloves. Cal now one more link in the long chain.

“And you know,” said Initiate Kestis, “Padawan Ji-Kian got them from Knight Vos.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am a rat in a Skinner box and y'all are my trainers.


End file.
